


Heated Touch

by merrills



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Budding Love, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24776887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrills/pseuds/merrills
Summary: Nights on the Wounded Coast can get cold. Lucky for Fenris that Hawke is more than willing to share some warmth.
Relationships: Fenris/Hawke (Dragon Age), Fenris/Male Hawke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87





	Heated Touch

Nights on the Wounded Coast could, would, and did get cold. It was amusing, really, listening to Hawke, Aveline, Anders and Merrill complain about the damp heat in Kirkwall this time of year, only for them to start shivering as soon as the sun was about to set. The sunlight’s warmth did not linger long past its disappearance, and thus the Fereldans started to complain. Sometimes even preemptively. 

Fenris could have told them that the temperature swing around Kirkwall was nothing compared to the ones in Tevinter, but he held his tongue and merely mused on the humor of the situation. 

It was getting late now, however, and unless they wanted to walk for several more hours to reach the city, they would have to camp out on the Coast. Luckily, Aveline had had the foresight to insist on them all bringing the necessary equipment. And even though Hawke had grumbled at first, he appeared to be grateful once their two tents were set up. 

It was a quaint little corner, surrounded by the Wounded Coast’s characteristic spiky rocks that somewhat resembled the shoulder piece on Fenris’ armor. Because of how easily defensible the spot was, and its proximity to a nearby spring, the group felt they could relax somewhat. 

And so, after having built a fire that did little to combat the slight chill that had taken residence in Fenris’ bones, Aveline, Merrill, Hawke and him shared their provisions among each other; two handfuls of dry meat and nuts, as well as some fruit and ale from Hawke’s wineskin. 

There was minimal conversation over dinner, as the long day of fighting had taken out most of the groups energy. The lethargy was to be felt in every second that passed. Even Merrill seemed too drained for her usual chatter, for which Fenris was grateful. All he wanted to do was rid his armor of the dried and crusted blood and then fall onto his bedroll and sleep until the sun came up. 

Hawke seemed to have a similar idea, except for the cleaning. Where Aveline, in spite of her exhaustion, made sure that her weapons and armor were completely unstained, Hawke simply started unbuckling all of his straps, laying away piece by piece of his armor, and then retreated to one of the tents with a tiredly grunted goodnight. 

It made Fenris wonder if he would have considered this rude in another person. And perhaps he would have. In Hawke, however, Fenris couldn’t help but slightly smile as the tent flaps fell shut. 

He caught Merrill’s eye as he was turning his face back to the greatsword on his lap. The expression on her face was alert, curious, and knowing - a mixture that Fenris absolutely did not care for. 

“What is it, witch?” he asked not without a hint of impatience. 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied lightly. “I just noticed something rather cute about you.”

Fenris bared his teeth at her, but gave no other reply. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t…

His gaze wandered back to the tent that he would be sharing with Hawke tonight, but then he heard a quiet giggle from Merrill. Fenris immediately returned his focus on wiping down the rest of his sword, though the part of his mind that remained with the tent also was alarmed to register the heat assembling in his cheeks. 

_ Damned witch.  _

Without much prelude, Fenris bid her and Aveline good night and promised to take on the next watch after Merrill. Then, he laid out his armor and sword in front of the tent and retreated within as well. 

The light of the fire dimly danced on the tent’s canvass and threw flickering shadows where Hawke was laying under a blanket, appearing to be asleep. As quietly as he could, Fenris moved to the left bedroll and lifted the blanket for himself to disappear under. 

He was looking forward to sleeping, but something kept him from getting there. He was feeling far too cold to be comfortable, especially where it came to his fingers and toes, and sleeping on the ground was likely not going to help him out. For a moment he considered getting back up to sit closer by the fire for a little bit, but having laid down already Fenris could feel his body begging to stay that way. His legs almost seemed to melt into the thin mattress, and he sighed at the glory of that sensation. 

If only he could be warm. 

Fenris rolled on his belly, pulling the blanket over his head to contain his hot breath and hopefully warm up soon. But after several long minutes, he was still disappointed; his hands and feet remained cold, and indeed it seemed that his arms were now following suit. A grunt of frustration escaped him, and he longed to be in his mansion where he knew he could get another blanket if he so desired. Alas, he was still in a cold tent, and so he turned onto his side, perhaps a bit too forcefully, and pulled up his legs, wrapping one arm around them. 

“Are you going to toss all night?” he suddenly heard from in front of him. 

“I apologize. I seem to have a difficult time warming up. I did not mean to disturb your sleep.”

Hawke sighed. 

“It’s alright.”

And then, out of nowhere, he sat up, moved sideways from this bedroll, and pushed it closer to Fenris’. 

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you warm up. Otherwise neither of us will get an eye shut, mh?”

Before he rightly knew where the other man was going with this, Hawke had drapped his blanket half over Fenris’ and laid back down with the rest of it barely covering his own broad body. Fenris’ breath hitched when he felt Hawke’s arm snake under the blanket to touch his, and pulled himself up. 

“What is this?” he asked with more irritability than was perhaps necessary.

Hawke stilled, though he didn’t move back. His amber eyes gleamed when the ambient light of the fire’s shine hit his face. 

“I’m sorry, that was sudden,” he said. “I just mean to- well. Touch me. My arm, i mean.”

“What do you-”

“Trust me.”

A similar feeling as the one before enveloped Fenris, and he could feel his heart jumping into his throat. It took him a moment’s hesitation, but then he reached his right hand out and put it on Hawke’s hairy arm.

“You’re warm,” he remarked quietly.

“A walking furnace,” Hawke grinned. “Everybody in my family is, aside from Mother. Was.”

His grin faltered a little.

“Anyways. Feel free to put your hands and feet on me. That should get you warm in no time.”

“That is… very generous, and very strange of you to offer, Hawke.”   
“Mh. Must be I’m a strange person, then. But a friend in need is a friend in need, and I wouldn’t want you shivering all night.”

_ Friends. _

Fenris chuckled. 

“Alright, Hawke. I accept.”

And with that, Fenris lowered himself onto his back again and rolled a bit closer to his friend, putting both his hands on the other man’s arm.

Hawke had always felt like a warm person to Fenris. He gave out smiles at the drop of a hat, a kind word for people who needed it, or a joke in a strained situation. This was the first time he had actual confirmation that Hawke was indeed as warm as he portrayed himself to be. It was a marvel.

A low, slow exhale escaped Fenris when his fingers started tingling from the returning sensation. With gratitude in his heart he flexed them to rid them of the remaining stiffness.

“Better?” Hawke asked into the increasing darkness.

“Are you certain you don’t mind?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Fenris contemplated that for a while. Breathed in, breathed out.    
“You are a strange man, Hawke, you know that?”

“I have been told so once or twice. Mainly by you.”

“Yes, well. I hope… I hope you don’t take that to mean that I do not appreciate you.”

“How could you not? I am amazing.”

Fenris laughed. 

“That would be one way to put it, I suppose,” he smiled. 

And even though he could by now only make out a vague likeness of his friend, Fenris sensed that Hawke was smiling as well. A beautiful smile, one that calmed his heart unlike anything else. 

After a few minutes, Hawke’s breathing slowed, and eventually turned into a mild snore. Fenris could have removed his hands from Hawke’s arm by then, but… but he didn’t. He didn’t until two hours later, when Merrill’s voice cut through shallow sleep to wake him and remind him of his watch. And while he was sitting there, by the fire, finally warm, he could think of little else but heated skin under his touch and Hawke’s relaxed breathing not far from his ear.


End file.
